Page 46 of Protect my Heart
I stop breathing for a second.
Always watching. The words echo in my head, louder and louder until it’s all I can hear. I glance around the room, my heart pounding against my ribs like a drum. Every shadow suddenly feels suspicious. Every little sound makes me jump.
How long has he been watching? What does he know? Where is he right now?
Panic threatens to swallow me whole, but I force myself to breathe in and out, slow and steady. I can’t lose it. Not now. I need to think.
I can’t tell Aarav. Not yet. If this guy is crazy—and he clearly is—dragging Aarav into it might make things worse. Might push this psycho into doing something even more dangerous. But I can’t sit here and do nothing either.
My hands tremble as I type the next message, trying to sound way calmer than I actually feel.
Me:
If you don’t stop this, I’ll go to the police.
I hit send and stare, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.
The reply is instant.
Unknown:
The police can’t protect you, sweetheart. Only I can. Just wait and see. I’ll prove it to you.
My mouth goes dry. Fear claws up my throat, but I swallow it down. I can’t let him win. Without thinking twice, I block the number. My hands are still shaking, but I don’t care. I can't deal with this right now. Not when everything in my life already feels like it’s hanging by a thread. Whoever this psycho is, they have no idea who they’re messing with. I won’t be their prey.
CHAPTER 28
AARAV
Something is wrong with Anika. I can sense it. She’s been so silent these past few days, and that’s so unlike her. Normally, she’s this stubborn, wildcat of a woman who has something to say about everything—even if it’s just to annoy me. But now... it’s like someone snuffed out her spark. I’ve tried asking her what’s wrong, I really have, but every time I bring it up, she just gets angrier and more withdrawn. It’s frustrating as hell to stand here, helpless, knowing she’s hurting and not letting me in.
I loosen my tie as I walk toward our room, exhaustion dragging at my steps after the mess of a day I had. Half my team turned out to be incompetent idiots, and now that I’ve fired a bunch of them, I have the lovely task of interviewing new ones. And God, it’s such a headache. No one impresses me anymore. I sigh under my breath. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day, and the thought of it already makes my head hurt.
I open the door slowly, careful not to wake her up. These days, we’ve been sleeping on the same bed... not exactly how we planned it, but somehow, no matter how much she tries to act like she hates it, she always ends up in my arms by morning. And then she tries to sneak away, thinking I’m asleep. It’s honestly the best part of my day, feeling her tucked against me, even if shepretends otherwise. I shake my head, a soft smile tugging at my lips.
But as I step inside, something feels off again. I notice her sitting on the bed, lost in thought, her gaze fixed on something across the room. I follow her line of sight—and frown. There’s a bouquet of flowers on the dressing table. It's beautiful, too—roses, lilies, a bit too... perfect. There’s a small card tucked into the arrangement, but from where I stand, it looks blank.
I walk toward her cautiously, not wanting to spook her. "Are those flowers for me?" I tease lightly, trying to pull a smile out of her. Her head snaps up at my voice, eyes wide, like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
"What? Oh, uhh—" She stammers, flustered, glancing between me and the bouquet like she’s trying to come up with a good excuse. There's a sadness in her eyes, though, one that makes my heart clench.
"No, they’re not for you," she mumbles eventually, voice barely above a whisper.
I keep my expression neutral even though my stomach twists. "Who are the flowers from then?" I ask, watching her closely.
She looks up, face shuttered. “It’s nothing,” she says, tone flat and emotionless, like she’s trying to shut the whole thing down. And maybe someone else would let it go, but not me. Especially not when she’s clearly upset.
I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. "Who sent them, Anika?" I repeat, my words—sharp and firm. I’m not backing off, not this time. I know I should keep my jealousy in check, but my mind can’t help racing. These flowers—they don’t feel like a giftfrom someone she’s happy to hear from. No, her whole body is practically screaming in discomfort.
“Anika, please. Just tell me who sent them," I ask again, this time softer. "Or at least tell me what's bothering you."
She bites her lip, brows furrowing like she’s struggling with herself. Then, out of nowhere, she stands up, tension radiating from every inch of her body. “I told you, it’s nothing! Why do you care so much?”
I blink, thrown off by how defensive she’s gotten. She’s usually stubborn, sure, but this... this feels like something more. Something deeper.
“I care because you're clearly upset, and I want to help," I say, my own irritation starting to bleed through. "Why won’t you let me in, Anika?"
She clenches her fists, jaw tight. “Because you can’t help with this, Aarav! This is something I have to deal with on my own!”
